Abriech Mac FrieWork makes free
by Pat B
Summary: Magneto's thoughts on the MRA hearings... and his past


"Abriech Mach Frie"  
  
(work Makes Free)  
  
Author's note" This story takes place from Magneto's POV during the MRA hearings, this piece has some disturbing imagery of the Holocaust, and some in German with translations provided. I'd like to thank my betareaders for their suggestions, and any errors in german translation blame me and babelfish.  
  
Rating: Ehh let's call it PG-13, nothing too graphic, but let's keep the kids at home   
  
Legal stuff: Characters are Marvel's I'm just taking them out for a test spin,   
  
=Washington DC=  
  
The usual suspects were droning on about the Mutant Registry act. Charles was there, he brought Dr Grey. The All American Girl, what every parent wanted as a child and every man wanted as a girlfriend or wife.  
  
But that never changed anything. They were humans; they never changed. And Charles that idealistic fool desired peace between humankind and mutants, and set up his school to have them live together.  
  
It wouldn't work Charles....  
  
He knew why.  
  
The acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air as the SS officer gestured to his troops to begin burying the bodies.  
  
Young Erik Lensherr crawled from the refuse of corpses. The stink of blood, urine, feces and fear flooding his senses and he looked at the men who stared at him, their black uniforms covered with dust and dirt and spatters of blood.   
  
"der Jude, ist er nicht tot." (The Jew, he's not dead)  
  
"wie dieses sein kann?" (How can that be?)  
  
"nehmen Sie ihn..." (take him)  
  
"Ja Mein Kommandant." (Yes sir)  
  
Rough arms grabbed him and dragged him off...  
  
  
  
It was happening again here, first they registered the mutants. Then what was next, camps, persecution, and holocaust.  
  
The older man left the hearing room...  
  
At 13 years old Erik had been placed in to the 6th pit of hell... the acrid stink of burning bodies.  
  
Standing before him the fat pig in the black uniform spoke.  
  
"Sie sind hier geholt worden, für den Ruhm des deutschen Reich zu arbeiten. Wenn Sie nicht arbeiten, stellen Sie Bestrafung gegenüber. Wenn Sie entgehen, stellen Sie Bestrafung gegenüber. Befolgen Sie Ihr Kapos oder Sie stellen Bestrafung gegenüber. So lang, wie Sie arbeiten, werden Sie behandelt, und remeber Arbeit stellt Sie frei."   
  
(You have been brought here to work for the glory of the German Reich. If you escape you will face punishment,If you do not work you will face punishment, Obey the Kapos or you will face punishment, Obey the guards or you will face punishment. If you work you will be treated well, Remember work will set you free."  
  
He stood in a corner shivering. Another anonymous jew.  
  
An older man wearing one of those armbands with the star of David on it spoke quietly, "Hier... essen Sie dieses..." (Here, Eat this)  
  
"Nr.."(No)  
  
"Für Ihren Stärke Jungen." (for your strength boy)  
  
He took the moldy bread and ate it quietly, the broth was more water then soup....  
  
"Erik..." The hum of a motorized wheelchair interrupted his thoughts.  
  
"Charles." He turned to face the bald man in the wheelchair who had been his friend for the longest time. Longer then he could remember.  
  
"I saw you in the Gallery Erik. I knew you'd be here."   
  
"Now Charles.." Erik's eyes twinkled, "What ever gave you that idea."  
  
Because I saw the look in your eyes Erik, humanity has changed since then."  
  
"Have they Charles?" The two men moved in tandem, "YOu don't think Mutants will replace Jews and minorities as scapegoats. You don't think there won't be some Klansman in Alabama who blames his not getting a job on a mutant, the way he used to blame a Negro, or a Jew?"  
  
A troubled expression crossed Charles Xavier's normally impassive features. Erik was right, some people would use mutants to scapegoat their failures. "But many more won't. They'll see we're people just like them."  
  
"Und die Juden waren nicht Herr Professor?"(and the Jews were not Mr. professor?)   
  
"Dieses ist nicht die gleiche Sache Erik. Die Vergangenheit beträgt die Vergangenheit." (this is not the same thing Erik. The past is the past.)   
  
"Vergessen Sie nie, daß meinen Freund... vergessen Sie nie." (Never forget my friend, never forget) With that Erik walked out of the capitol leaving a troubled Charles Xavier behind.  
  
It was amazing what you got used to, from the smells of your hometown to the scents of burning humanity. He had been dragged in to the Sonderkommando kicking and screaming.  
  
"Willkommene Freunde, wenn Sie Linien zu den Duschen bilden, werden Ihnen eine medizinische Prüfung, eine Dusche und eine Änderung von Kleidung gegeben, sind Familien gewiedervereinigte afterwords und Ihnen werden erlaubt, Ihr Eigentum auf der anderen Seite aufzuheben."(Welcome friends, If you will form lines to the showers, you will be given a medical exam, a shower and a change of clothing, Families will be reunited afterwords and you will be allowed to pick up your belongings on the other side.)  
  
He hated giving that speech. But that speech, that word keeps you alive. Gets you more food, which he would distribute to people in the camps and help then survive. More that survive more that remember.  
  
The fresh air struck his face as he walked down the marble steps of the Capitol building. Outside he took in a breath of clean air. His own memories adding the stink of burning humanity, a scent he woudl never forget.   
  
He looked over at the marble steps of the US Supreme Court building. On top of the marble front was engraved the phrase, "Equal Justice under law."   
  
Erik shook his head and remembered another inscription, "Abrecht Mach Frie." His arm bares stil a fading series of numbers. They were inked on by a guard at a rickety card table as he stepped off a train. Would they come back... would Mutants be the ones getting marked.  
  
Had humanity changed that much since 1939?  
  
He wondered some times, charles thought they had. But he was a naive fool, too idealistic for his own good.  
  
The MRA was the first step, but he could see the war was coming, sides had to be picked. Would he have to fight his old friend to make sure that when he said Never again it was the truth.  
  
He sunk in to the plush leather of the car. "Watergate hotel please." Days like this he felt so... old. Charles old friend, he thought silently, "Please be right about these humans... I won't let it happen again..." 


End file.
